


Kyoya's Lies

by BlackRavenDreams



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst and Feels, Bisexual Male Character, Daddy Issues, I Don't Even Know, I Made Myself Cry, Lies, Minor Fujioka Haruhi/Suoh Tamaki, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Sad, Somebody give Kyoya some hugs and lots of love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27801286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRavenDreams/pseuds/BlackRavenDreams
Summary: Kyoya often lies, not only to others but also to himself.A collection of times when he could not get himself to admit the truth.
Relationships: Fujioka Haruhi/Ootori Kyouya, Fujioka Haruhi/Suoh Tamaki, Ootori Kyouya/Suoh Tamaki
Comments: 16
Kudos: 81





	Kyoya's Lies

Kyoya often lied.

When Fuyumi asked him whether their father had upset him after the patriarch had yelled at him for a solid hour, he lied. Every shout, every slap, every little sign of Yoshio Ootori’s disappointment made him feel _worthless_.

He lied every time he told Tamaki that he was a nuisance. Sure, the blond was an idiot, but Kyoya treasured their friendship regardless. In his opinion, all the time and effort he needed to put into managing the club behind the scenes was all worth it.

In Okinawa, he lied when he told Haruhi that she was right in naïvely assuming that there was no merit in what he was threatening to do. She was right in that he would _never_ hurt her like that, but to say that there was no merit in being with her was woefully incorrect. The number of pills he had taken to calm himself down after Haruhi was flung into the ocean said otherwise. The amount of time he had spent worrying that night despite those pills said otherwise, too.

He lied many times during his time at the Izumi Shopping Center. It was a sort of game, lying to her and then seeing if she could see through them. He lied when he told Haruhi that it was each of the host’s egocentricities that kept the club together. It could not be further from the truth. He lied when he said that he found the competition between him and his brothers to be a fun game. After befriending Tamaki, he no longer found his family so confining and his situation so hopeless, but the pressure did get to him every once in a while. He lied _again_ when he said that he stopped the seedy seller from conning the old lady simply because she was the wife of an important corporate executive. It shocked him when she saw through each and every one of those lies.

Whenever Haruhi broke something while hosting, Kyoya would, without exception, lie when telling her the cost of the item. It was all _too_ easy to add a zero or two at the end of the figure to add more to her debt than was necessary, though the two seniors would give him a questioning look every once in a while when a price sounded rather suspicious. 

He lied when he insisted that he was fine after being slapped in front of everyone. The sting of being publicly humiliated was not one that faded for many months to come.

But the biggest lies were the ones he told himself.

He thought of himself as unemotional. He insisted that love and joy did not matter to him, so long as he was successful and his friends were happy. Why would it affect him if he got slapped when he disappointed his father or if he had to stay up _all night_ doing what he had to do for the Host Club? Emotions only got in the way.

He kept insisting that being the Ootori heir was what he wanted, that he desired a life controlled by societal expectations. Fuyumi and Tamaki were not entirely convinced, but Kyoya kept at it. It was not until he met Haruhi that he realized how wrong he was. Still, he remained in his chains.

He did _not_ love Tamaki. There was nothing good that could possibly come out of a relationship with his best friend and coming out as bisexual, so Kyoya assured himself that Tamaki was _just_ an irritating idiot whom he _just_ happened to befriend. Nothing more. It was cowardly, he knew, but it was the easiest way out of what could potentially prove to be disastrous.

He told himself that he did not love Haruhi, either, and that she had no merit. She was a commoner and did not care about how other people saw her. Still, he felt a twinge of jealousy every time he saw Tamaki and the twins hover over her. When he finally accepted the truth that night in Okinawa, he pushed his feelings aside to help his best friend.

When Tamaki and Haruhi finally managed to understand their feelings and get together, he believed that he was happy. After all, the two people he cared about most were finally together. His broken heart was a small price to pay for their joy, especially seeing that he had no use for such feelings.

When he went to Harvard, he acted as if he did not miss the others. Each text, each call, each unannounced visit was nothing but an irritation. But he could not help but smile when the others joyfully greeted him when he surprised them by coming back to Japan for a month that first summer.

Now, he stared at the wedding invitation in his hand. His heart beat painfully in his chest when he read the names on the card: _Tamaki Suoh_ and _Haruhi Fujioka._ He had dropped the envelope the invitation was in while he was reading, and he now picked it up and found a separate letter asking him to be the best man. He immediately sent an email to congratulate them and tell them that he would be happy to be Tamaki’s best man. _Happy._ Yes, he was happy for them, and the fact that they were getting married did not hurt him. Warm, salty tears kept falling and sobs racked his body, but he was happy. Even if he were not, did it matter? Emotions were useless things to a businessman such as him, and he was destined for an arranged marriage that suited his father no matter what he truly wanted.

And so he kept lying.


End file.
